


Fate Carries You Away; Drifting Further and Further

by ImmediatelyWriting



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aggression, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Medical, Amnesia, Angst, Ash Lynx Needs A Hug, Ash Lynx Patient, Banana Fish Anime Spoilers, Banana Fish References, Canonical Character Death, Comfort, Crying, Cute Ash Lynx, Cute Okumura Eiji, Delusions, Doctors & Physicians, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fainting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Health Issues, Hopefully My Longest Story So Far, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Conditions, Multi, Neurological Disorders, Neurology & Neuroscience, New Year's Eve, Nightmares, Okumura Eiji Caretaker, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Past, Past Character Death, References to Depression, Romantic Fluff, Seizures, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmediatelyWriting/pseuds/ImmediatelyWriting
Summary: “You call it B1 or by its long Latin name. And me? I call it how my brother called it; Banana Fish.”❀Medical attention and drugs are just for a more comfortable road to death.Ash has been at the hospital for long enough to know they won’t lengthen his lifespan in any way. He’s seen what this terrible disease has done to his brother and has accepted his fate long ago.That is, until he meets the young nurse, Eiji Okumura, who got the job of taking care of Ash.The two start to grow closer, and as Ash’s drifting further and further away, he realizes that for the first time in his entire life he’s got a reason to live.❀A Banana Fish Hospital AU.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Max Lobo/Jessica Randy
Comments: 17
Kudos: 46





	1. Ohayō

**Author's Note:**

> Hey There!
> 
> Banana Fish is literally one of the best anime I've ever seen! AND I love writing Hospital AUs, so why not put those things together in 1 fanfiction?
> 
> I do feel like I have to give some disclaimers:  
> \- These characters do not belong to me, they belong to the makers of Banana Fish!  
> \- The disease used in this fanfiction is 100% fictional, but I did do lots of research to make it as medically correct and realistic as possible. Parts of this research will be explained thoughout the chapters and/or in authorsnotes. It could trigger you if you've got traumatic/very bad expierences with a neurological disease like Alzheimer, though!  
> \- The developing relationship is between two men, so if you're homophobic it might not be the right content for you!  
> \- Some plotpoints will be semi-canon or make hints to canon, but this is completely set in an alternate universe!
> 
> That's about about it when it comes to disclaimers. I hope you'll enjoy this completely new project "Fate Carries You Away; Drifting Further and Further" with a fair amount of (flirty/dorky) AshEiji and some fluff mixed in with the angsty parts.
> 
> Love, Noa <3

**Eiji Okumura**

_5 Jul. 2018_

_Ohayō America_ , that’s the first thing I think when I look out of the window this morning. Everything about this place screamed America, and even though I’ve never seen the city New York in broad daylight, I’ve always imagined it looking like this; vibrant, busy and big.

Even though I’ve grown up in a place like Japan, which isn’t the calmest country either, I’m not used to the busy streets, sounds of cars everywhere and the morning’s sun waking me up at what feels like midnight. The last thing could also be the cause of my major yet lag though.

Since arriving at my apartment yesterday morning after a thirteen hour flight, on which I slept for most of the time, I haven’t closed my eyes for a single minute anymore. I’m too worked up about today; my first day of working as Ibe-san’s assistant at New York’s biggest clinic.

I was very surprised when, only a month ago, Ibe-san suddenly told me he was moving to America for work. He’d been my mentor-figure at the hospital I previously worked and I hadn’t ever thought of him leaving me there alone with all the female nurses that kept on gossiping about me; apparently, in the older women’s eyes, a nineteen-year-old is too young to have an interest in being a surgeon’s assistant. Even though Ibe-san kept reassuring me that I was great at my job, especially for how young I still am, but the ladies found new things to gossip about each day; if it wasn’t my age, it was the fact that I acted too young, even for a nineteen-year-old, and I acted too feminine for a guy.

I don’t know what their problem was, but anyway, when Ibe-san told me he was leaving I begged him not to. Then he gave me the offer, one he had been anticipating for quite a while now.

“They need a young friendly nurse at the hospital I’ll be working at,” Ibe-san told me, explaining that they had a teenage patient at the clinic with a massive distrust towards most grownups, so they thought maybe searching for a permanent, young, nurse for this guy would give him a less stressful time at the clinic. “I talked it over with a friend I have there, the patient’s previous caretaker, and he thought your personality would suit him perfectly.”

Basically, Ibe-san gave me a job offer. It would earn me less money than the job I had at the hospital in Japan, since I’d mainly be taking care of that one patient and beside that would only be performing some little tasks, but Ibe-san promised me I’d make more than enough money to pay the rent of an apartment nearby and I’d be able to buy food and clothes. So, after talking it over with my parents and obviously having a lot of tough discussions about it, I decided to take the job-offer.

Two days ago, very early in the morning, Ibe-san and I got onto the plane and we arrived in America thirteen hours later. We got a couple more hours to rest and settle in into our apartments, and today will be my official first day at New York’ Care and Research Clinic.

I smile while stretching my arms; I’m a lucky guy, New York is pretty and this view of the sun behind the big skyscrapers could even be called more gorgeous than the sunrise in Izumo.

A knock on the door scares me half to death; maybe because it’s dead silent in my apartment, or maybe because this isn’t Japan and they legally can carry around guns here. After realizing how late it is though, I remember that it’s probably Ibe-san who’s picking me up for my first day at work.

I walk to the door, sliding on my shoes when I reach the hallway, and open it. The summer’s sunshine shines in my eyes, so I squint while greeting Ibe-san.

“Good morning, Ei-chan,” Ibe-san replies soon after I open the door. “Ready for your first day?”

I smile, nodding cheerfully. “One-hundred percent ready!” I say, stepping out into the summery morning air. I quickly check if I have my keys on me before I close the door behind me.

“Not at all nervous?” Ibe-san asks me as we’re walking to his car.

I shrug, telling him that the nervousness I’m having is kind of being canceled out by how much I’m looking forward to meeting the new people, seeing the patient I’ll be working with and just working at the American hospital in general; it’ll be totally different from Japan, which is exciting.

“I’m glad!” Ibe-san chuckles. “Because I actually _am_ a little nervous.”

We get in the car and as I’m putting on my safety belt I ask Ibe-san why a surgeon as talented as him would have to be nervous about getting a new job somewhere. To which Ibe-san answers that he’s only twenty-five himself, and moving to a completely different country for a new job is scary.

I nod, he might be right; somewhere deep down I’m a little nervous too, even though I rather wouldn’t admit it to neither Ibe-san nor myself for that matter.

It’s when my heart starts to beat so quickly that it feels like it’s going to burst right out of my chest, that I realize that I’m much more nervous than I led myself to belief. I’m very nervous, especially when we get out of the car and I see how gigantic this clinic actually is in real life.

_How am I going to find my way around here?_ I ask myself while following Ibe-san through the automatically sliding doors. _It’s humongous!_

If the outside didn’t look big enough already, with its god-know-how-many floors, the inside looks even more like a maze. With all sorts of people, from all over the world, wandering around. People either look like they own the place or are holding one of those maps that they sell at the front desk.

Ibe-san and I also buy one of those maps, because we can’t get lost on our very first day here.

“So, we’re now here—“ Ibe-san points at the red dot at the entrance of the hospital. “—and you have to go to the west wing, the Neuroscience unit.”

The department where I’ll be working from now on is all the way up to fourth floor, while Ibe-san will be working on the first floor where they carry out all sorts of medical procedures. In such a huge hospital, I doubt Ibe-san and I will see each other a lot during work. At least our apartments are right next to each other; that way if I need something, I can always ask Ibe-san once I’m home.

“Here we go,” Ibe-san says when we reach the elevator. He gives me a pat on the shoulder and says, “You can just take the elevator to the fourth floor, just ask the first person you come across for Max Lobo, he’s the person who’ll be showing you around today. Can you do that?”

I nod, smiling nervously while thanking him for walking me to the elevator.

“We’ll meet in the entrance hall this evening after work, okay?” Ibe-san tells me. “Try to have fun.”

I nod again, wishing him a good first day as well before stepping into the elevator. I’m standing in there with a much taller and broader man, someone who clearly works here. American people are so tall, and these bean-stakes will be my colleagues from today.

I’m suddenly very nervous.

I avert my gaze to the floor, wiping my sweaty hands off on my pants every once in a while, until we reach the fourth floor. The taller man gets out of the elevator with me, and when I realize that we’re walking to the same department, I mumble, “S-Sir, could you tell me where I can find Max Lobo?”

The man turns around, squinting at me before smiling wide. “Oh, so _you’re_ Eiji Okumura?”

“Yes,” I reply, looking up at him, only now noticing the nametag that’s pinned onto the fabric of his broken-white uniform. My cheeks get all red when I realize I just asked the man whose name is Max Lobo where I can find him; great first impression!

I bow and tell him I apologize for not realizing who he is earlier. “It’s great to meet you, sir Lobo.”

The American chuckles, patting me on the head while telling me to stop being so formal. “You can just call me Max, we’re going to be working together, so why stick with last names?”

After that he takes a step back and studies me from top to toe. “You’re quite the scrawny young man, aren’t you?” Max places his hands on his hips and adds, “I thought Shunichi said you’re nineteen?”

I frown at him and say, “I am.”

“Nah, kid, I’m just joking.” Max chuckles, but I don’t think it’s an especially funny joke; I mean, I know I look pretty young even to other Japanese, but people don’t have to keep reminding me.

I take a deep breath and bite on the inside of my cheek, praying my colleagues here won’t be the same as the ones I had in Japan.

“Anyway, you’re right on time.” Max holds up the plastic bag that he’s been holding for a while now and hands it to me. When a look inside there’s a small pile of white clothing inside; my personal uniform, topped off with my very own nametag.

“You’ll have to remember to wash it yourself, but we’ve got washing machines in the basement in case you don’t have one yourself,” Max explains while leading me to one of the closest staff-rooms so I can put my uniform on. “You can come to the room all the way down the hall once you’re done putting on your uniform.” Before he closes the door of the locker-room behind himself, he tells me he also put a copy of my new patient’s medical chart in the bag. “Maybe you can read through it before you join me during his morning routine; it’s best if you already know the basic information.”

I do exactly as he tells me; putting on my uniform and pinning on my nametag before leaning against the wall with the file in my hands. I open the beige dossier, revealing a picture of a young guy stapled onto many papers with clinical and medical data, a list of medications and treatment plans. Multiple scans of the brain and scores of IQ tests are all included in the file.

Since it’s a weighty file with a lot of information, I decide that I’ll look into it once I get home this evening. But still briefly scan over his personal and clinical data as well as his treatment plans, just so I’ve got an idea of who and what specific Neurological disease I’ll be dealing with.

I soon find out that I’ll be taking care of a seventeen-year-old named Aslan Jade Callenreese. I’m actually shocked by the weight of his file when I see his age; he’s still so young, but he has collected that medical chart that puts shame to the ones most elderly at my old workplace had.

At first I think it must be because this is a bigger clinic that also does lots of research about disease to find a cure, and maybe they all put it the patient’s file, but it all starts to make sense when I see what Neurological disease this kid is dealing with.

B1, also known as one of the newest, most uncommon, neurological disease. In the past twenty years there have only been ten people diagnosed with B1 worldwide, and it’s widely known under nurses for its mortality rate of one-hundred percent; of course this teen has a file that could easily break a window if you threw it at one.

I stare down at the file, wondering why on earth they didn’t assign a more experienced nurse to this Aslan Jade Callenreese. Why me? Why not someone who could actually help them continue their research, so they can cure people from this terrible disease in the future?

That’s when I see the words in the corner of the medical chart. They’re in scribble handwriting, and they’re Japanese, saying “ _I know it’s not an easy patient, but you can do this Ei-chan!”_.

I smile; of course Ibe-san was the one who made sure I got a copy of Aslan’s medical chart before I met him for the first time, and of course he needed to write an encouraging message in the corner before his tall American friend delivered it to me.

I close the file and hug it against my chest, nodding determinedly; I can do this.

I put everything I don’t need in my locker and walk down the hallway, telling myself over and over again “ _I can do this!”_ until I reach the last door all the way at the end of the long hallway. I look at the sign, checking if the name on the sign matches the name on the file.

“Aslan and Griffin Callenreese,” I mumble, reading from the sign.

I squint, wondering why there are two names on the sign when I’m only informed about one of them. And they have the same last name?

I shrug it off, trying not to think too much about it and instead telling myself that the more people are inside of that room the merrier before I lay my hand on the doorknob. As soon as my hand turns the metal doorknob, it sounds like the world explodes; not really, but kind of really.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” a guy’s voice shouts at such a loud volume that the windows might break if he isn’t careful. “Just don’t touch me! Leave me alone, old man!”

Suddenly everything goes silent, except for my heavy breathing.

It takes a moment for me to notice that I walked into the room in the middle of a discussion and that now all eyes are turned to me. The eyes of Max, who’s standing next to the only bed in the room with a black t-shirt in his hands, but also the intense green eyes of the scrawny teenager.

The model-like teenager is gorgeous, with his longer blond hair and intense eyes. But at the same time he it sends shivers down my spine; those same emerald eyes are staring straight at my soul, and it’s like Aslan’s judging every part of me as his intimidating voice asks, “Who on earth are you?”

I swallow, my entire body is telling me to run away, but I remain standing in the doorway forcing myself to wave good day while squeakily stammering, “H-Hi, I’m Eiji Okumura, your new caretaker.”


	2. When You Come Across A Banana Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new caretaker?   
> And he's so clumsy and also very nosy, what's up with that?

**Aslan Callenreese**

_5 Jul. 2018_

A new caretaker? That’s really the only thing they could think of.

Nothing seems to be more important to Max. After I stopped trusting him with caring of literally my life, all he could think about was getting me some inexperienced nurse; instead of starting the process of developing a cure for this terrible disease, he got a rookie to take care of me.

“Since when do they employ kids?” I ask the foreign nurse, Eiji Okumura, as he’s clumsily trying to get the bottles of medication for the higher cabinets. It’s actually a mean move of Max to have them standing on the shelve that he can just get to them; he’s so much taller than this kid.

“I am—“ Eiji balances on the tips of his toes, just reaching the bottles. “—older than you, actually.” He turns around to me with an annoyed expression on his face.

I look at him pouting face, and seeing that he has the biggest baby face I’ve ever seen on someone, I cannot possibly believe that this boy is older than me. He’s fourteen at oldest.

I lean against the wall behind me, shrugging at his statement before looking out of the window.

I can see the entire courtyard from here, and even though it looks most beautiful around this time of year, I don’t feel like going outside. Just looking at it whenever I sit in the windowsill is enough to make me feel a lot calmer.

“Here, I got your medication.” The only thing that’s disturbing my peaceful and terribly short life, is this kid. With his awful accent and his vibe that screams rookie; he actually serves meds on a plate.

I look at the plate filled with everything from two types of anticonvulsants to inhibit my seizures all to way to the basic painkiller to make muscle wasting and headaches less unbearable.

“First off, you don’t have to serve them on a plate. Secondly, I don’t need them,” I mutter, turning away from the nasty medication that they’re forcing into my body daily with disgust. “It’s just junk.”

“What do you mean, you don’t need them?” Eiji asks me, placing the plate with medication next to me on the floor. “They’re making sure you don’t feel pain every single day.”

“Yes, like you say—” I turn back to Eiji, making sure to look him in the eyes when explaining, “—these pills make my life more _comfortable_ , it’s not like they’re helping me have a longer life.”

Eiji frowns, clearly not getting what I’m saying. Because who would, all nurses and doctors think having a mildly comfortable few years to live is so much better than just being able to live a full life. So they fill you up with antidepressants, BETA-blockers, Diazepam and other junk every day just so you can live a so called comfortable life; these drugs don’t even take away the worst pain.

“What do you mean?” Eiji asks. “I mean, this medication sure must do something good, otherwise they wouldn’t be giving it to you for, how long? Three years?”

“Five,” I correct him. “And no, they don’t do anything. I’ll just rush through the stages just like everyone else, and in the end, I’ll die from this disease.” I close my eyes briefly. “Believe me, I’ve seen it all happen up close; you wither away and die, that’s just what Banana Fish does.”

“Banana Fish?”

I wince while biting my lip; I’ve said it wrong again. I promised myself I wouldn’t call it by that name ever again, not after—

“My older brother, he called it that,” I explain. “I mean, it has many names anyway. You call it B1. Professors call it by its long Latin name. And me? I call it how my brother called it.”

I always thought calling Banana Fish made more sense than calling it B1 or whatever its official name is. Griffin explained it to me one day, once I was old enough to understand. He told me that he had read about Banana Fish in a novel once, he always loved reading, and he thought it really applied to this disease.

He explained it like this “when you come across a Banana Fish in the sea, you suddenly feel like dying” and we both knew very well that once you enter stage 1 and the symptoms set in for the first time, the nightmares you start to have whenever you’re not wide awake will have you feel like dying.

But I don’t tell that to Eiji, even when he sits down beside me with his legs hugged to his chest eagerly waiting for me to tell him more about this alternate name; it’s a thing between Griffin and me, only the two of us call it that, and telling it to some outsider would feel like betraying Griffin.

When Eiji seems to realize that I’m not going to tell him more, he appears a little disappointed. And just when he seems like he’s going to open his mouth to ask another annoying question, the door swings open with a lot of noise.

“Good morning!” a cheerful voice echoes through my room as Shorter walks into the room with a breakfast tray. He does this every morning, some days I even get scared out of my nightmares like this; my only friend storming into room with a derpy-looking hairnet covering up his illegal Mohawk and smudges of food staining his white apron.

For as long as I remember, Shorter’s been helping out at the hospital. Until just a few months ago, he wasn’t old enough to get an official contract, but he still helped out daily ever since he was seven. Because his older sister works in the hospital’s cafeteria as cook, he’s been that cheerful boy who brings patients their breakfast every morning. And since Shorter’s only one year older than me, he and I soon became friends and have been for almost twelve years now.

“Morning, Shorter,” I reply dryly.

“Wow, you’re cheerful as ever, I see?” Shorter sarcastically answers, placing the tray on the over-bed table before walking over to me. That’s when he spots Eiji sitting on the floor beside me. “Ah, so you’re the young caretaker they employed?” He sticks his hand out to Eiji and winks. “Good luck.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for scaring the new kid.”

“I’m a grown up,” Eiji snaps back at me, before looking back to Shorter. Eiji gets on his feet before shaking Shorter’s hand and saying, “Eiji Okumura, nice to meet you—“

“Shorter Wong,” Shorter replies, smiling wide at the Japanese boy. “I was just joking by the way; Ash’s a good guy.” Shorter looks at me, holding out his hand to help me on my feet, even though I don’t need his hand. After I push his hand away, Shorter adds, “But he’s just a little grumpy.”

“Funny.” I squint my eyes at him when he winks.

After that I get on my feet and saunter over to my bed. I crawl under the blankets and roll the over-bed table closer so I can properly reach my food. It looks okay, but my appetite is gone as usual.

“Anyway, enjoy your meal, Ash.” Shorter walks to the hallway where his cart with other trays waits for him. Before he closes the door behind himself, he turns around and tells one of us, or maybe Eiji as well as me, good luck. I guess we both kind of need it in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey There!
> 
> I hope you liked chapter 2!  
> I'm working on the draft of chapter 14 right now, and I am so excited for you to actually read the part where this starts to escalate.   
> Because, obviously, we're still just in the introducing chapters; but this will come to an end sooner than later ^^
> 
> Love, Noa <3


	3. A Wake Up Call For The Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash's words haunt Eiji, because what did he mean when he said he saw what B1 does to people up close?

**Eiji Okumura**

_5 (and 6) Jul. 2018_

“I’ve seen it all happen up close.”

Aslan’s words hit me deep, they bothered me. Things just didn’t make sense; the way Aslan seems sad all the time, the extra name on the sign of a room that clearly only held one bed and the way he talked about his older brother in past tense. It almost feels like I’m missing part of the story.

Even after I get home in the evening and read every part of his medical file, nothing makes sense.

Obviously it tells me that he’s got B1, which is a genetic disease, so I can assume his older brother suffers from the same disease. Which makes sense, as I take the other name on the sign’s his older brother’s name. But where is this Griffin, if he’s not in his assigned hospital room.

I lay my head in my hands, knowing that that isn’t even the biggest problem; I just got a new job and the person I’m caring for seems to literally hate me. He rolls his eyes whenever I talk, he snarls at me and if anything he doesn’t seem to trust me at all, even if I’m much younger than the other staff.

I decide to give it a rest for now, and to see how tomorrow goes; I mean, everyone has a bad day sometimes, so maybe Aslan is really a nice guy like Shorter said.

Falling asleep isn’t easy, but when I finally twist and turn enough that I’m too tired to stay awake, I sleep all the way to the next morning. The sunlight wakes me up, and I have a massive headache.

I drag myself out of bed and put on my uniform before walking to work earlier; I would go with Ibe-san in the car, like I did yesterday, but he had to work much earlier than me today.

Not much later, I saunter through the hallways of the hospital, a cup of cheap coffee being the only thing keeping me on my feet. I drink the last sip of it before heading towards Aslan’s room, repeating my morning tasks in my head before I go inside, so I don’t forgot anything.

When I wander into Aslan’s bedroom I see that the curtains are still closed, and Aslan’s still sleeping, even though it’s already half past nine; he should’ve woken up already by now, if my schedule’s right.

I open the curtains before walking over to his bed, crouching down beside him before saying, “Aslan, time to wake up.” But I get no reply.

He’s breathing at a rapid pace and, when I lay my hand on his shoulder to shake him, I notice that his shirt is drenched in sweat. His face also is scrunched up into a grimace as he pants.

_He must be having a nightmare._ I think to myself before calling out to him again; it may be better to just wake him up as soon as possible, because this dream can’t be nice. It takes a few more times of calling out to him before he shows response, and not the best one either; his hand shoots at my wrist, grabbing at tightly so I can’t even move it.

He’s breathing heavily, glaring at me with big eyes. His hands are shaking, his voice even more when he whispers, “G-Griffin?” Tears well up in his eyes as he stares at me and his face grows gloomy.

It grows even darker when he blinks and realizes that I’m not Griffin.

He swallows thickly before letting go of my wrist. His face is paler than it was yesterday and there are dark circles under his sunken eyes. He looks an unhealthy kind of exhausted, but then again I don’t know if I should worry about that, especially since it’s one of the symptoms of B1.

While briefly closing his eyes he tells me to give him some time alone.

“I think it’s best if I first take your vitals,” I tell Aslan, since that’s what I’ve been told to do as soon as he wakes up, especially when he’s sweating like this; he could have a fever. “It’ll only take a mi—“

“Just leave me alone!” he snaps at me, his eyes glaring at me intensely as a back away from him.

I swallow, looking at my feet before answering, “I guess I’ll be back in a minute.” With those words, and a lump in my throat, I walk out of the room. Where another fun surprise is waiting for me.

Max’s standing a little further down the hallway and as soon as he sees me exiting Aslan’s room, he starts walking in my direction. The expression on his face is worried.

“What was that about?” Max asks me. “I heard him yelling all the way down the hall.”

I glare at the floor, I would rather not talk about how Aslan’s screaming scared me half to death. But know it’s best to let Max inform me about what to do when something like this keeps happening.

“I think he had a nightmare, or a hallucination, not sure.”

“Those are common, especially for Ash,” Max tells me. “Did he take his Haloperidol already?”

I shake my head, telling him that Aslan just woke up and he actually refuses to take his medication.

Max takes a deep breath, telling me that if he refuses to take them, I should at least have him take the ones for his hallucinations, seizures and depression. “Those are the most important, I’d say.”

I nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to worry about, kid.” Max lays his head on my shoulder. “Ash isn’t an easy guy to deal with, especially since—“ Max’s face grows gloomy. “Never mind.”

I glance up at Max, and after taking a moment to gather the courage, I ask, “Did something happen? I feel like something I don’t know about happened, I don’t know what, but if it has to do with Aslan—“

“You deserve to know, I agree.” Max rubs with his hands in his eyes. “Ash’s going through a tough period in his life now. You see, Ash has an older brother, Griffin, who just recently passed away.”

I glance at the sign on the door, I knew something strange was going on with the two names.

Max touches it carefully, explaining me that Aslan didn’t want Griffin’s name removed yet. “It’s a big step for Ash, since he and his brother have been practically living here since Ash was six.”

“Since he was six?” I ask, thinking back to what I read in his medical form that said Aslan was diagnosed with B1 in 2013. “But he was only diagnosed five years ago? Right?”

“Yes, that’s true.” Max takes a deep breath, and I can see in his eyes that talking about this is hard for Aslan’s previous caretaker too. “Look, it’s hard to explain, but in short Griffin was diagnosed eleven and a half year ago. Since B1’s a genetic disease, we tested Ash too and found out that he had the same cerebral abnormality as his older half-brother.” Max explains me that, even though Aslan didn’t show any symptoms yet and practically still was in stage 0, and they didn’t know if he would actually start developing symptoms, they decided to monitor him closely.

It actually hits me hard that Aslan has lived in this clinic since he was six, all because his older brother gave their bodies to the science; they would be monitored for research for their entire life, in exchange for much lower hospital fees that Aslan’s older brother could actually pay for.

“The two of them have always shared a room,” Max continues. He smiles sadly when he tells me that Aslan and Griffin would have the biggest fun, especially when Griffin wasn’t _that_ sick yet. “Only three months ago, Ash lost his older brother.” He pats me on the head. “So maybe cut him some slack when it comes to the medical stuff, and just try to cheer him up if you can, okay?”

I nod. And when Max walks away, and I have to go back into Aslan’s room again, I feel like I actually understand now; of course Aslan seems a little off. He lost his only family, I assume, and beside that he’s also seen what fate is awaiting him in the near-distance, that wouldn’t be easy for anyone, but it’s even harder on someone as young as him.

I walk into the room, repeating Max’s words in my head “ _just try to cheer him up_ ”. And I don’t know if Aslan heard our conversation, or not, but as soon as Aslan spots me, he says, “I’m sorry about scaring you. J-Just don’t call me Aslan anymore, okay?” He’s not looking at me, but I know he’s serious about it, so I promise him that I won’t do that anymore.

Ash still looks a little guilty about what he’s done, even though he didn’t even really hurt me.

“D-Do I scare you?” he asks me in a soft and careful voice.

I swallow, knowing that Ash did scare me an awful lot by yelling at me. But that’s not what he wants to hear, nor what I want to have to tell him. So instead I shake my head. “Not at all.”

Ash nods, seeming relieved, yet disbelieving; he looks so guilty, so sad.

_Cheer him up._ I repeat to myself before smiling at Ash. “So, what shall we do today?”


	4. Happy New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Griffin got sick he felt like he came across a Banana Fish in the sea.

**Griffin Callenreese**

_31 Dec. 2006_

It all started with nightmares.

I started getting them a week or two ago; terrible nightmares that seemed to go on for forever.

Every time I closed my eyes they’d come jumping at me; distorted images of things, loud sounds causing my ears to ring and a fearful feeling that stuck me with me long after I woke up.

They would make me see things in the shadows, make me hear voices that told me to die.

And just two days ago, I started feeling even worse; aches spreading through my body like it did whenever I got a cold when I was younger. Feverish shivers started keeping me awake, as if the nightmares weren’t causing me enough insomnia, and I don’t recall sleeping ever since.

And today, even though it’s New Year’s Eve and I promised to take Aslan on a fun trip today, I’ve spend all day on the couch; shivering underneath a blanket, trying my hardest not to have another nightmare if I were to fall asleep. Telling myself over and over that it’s just a cold.

“Griff,” Aslan’s voice whispers in my ear, the only voice I can trust. “Come look at the fireworks.”

I want to open my eyes, but my eyelids are too heavy. I’ve been feeling like that a lot lately; just exhausted even though I’m not even following classes beside work anymore.

“Griff?” Aslan repeats, pulling at my sleeve.

I wince, mumbling, “Go outside to watch, I’ll follow you.” Just talking is exhausting, but that’s what I get for staying up all night just so I don’t have to deal with the nightmares.

Aslan’s little hands let go of my clothes, and not long after I hear his footsteps running down the hallway. The door opens, but doesn’t close; he’s too scared to get locked out of the house.

I feel like I could doze off a little and it probably wouldn’t hurt anyone, but Aslan thinks I’ll be following him out onto the fields and if I stay inside it’ll worry him. He may only be six years old, but I know he will get freaked out of I don’t come outside sooner than later.

So instead of allowing my vision to go dark, I force my heavy eyelids open. The world around me looks blurry, and if you’d tell me I’d need glasses, I’d believe you in the blink of an eye.

“Come on, legs.” I tap my tingling limbs to wake them up before dragging myself off the couch. When leaning on them, I have to use the wall as support, because otherwise I’d probably fall over; that’s how weak and achy my body’s feeling right now.

Fortunately, I’m strong enough to make it to the doorway, where I can lean against the doorpost as I watch Aslan. Standing is not that bad when I have something to lean against, and seeing that Aslan’s having such fun gazing at the evening’s first firework, there’s no reason not to stand a little longer.

“Griff!” Aslan waves cheerfully when he spots me standing on the doorway. Before I know it he’s running at me, shouting about how pretty the fireworks are. His hand wraps around mine and shouting, “Come watch!” before pulling me with him, out onto the fields.

Even though he’s pretty slow, I’m out of breath before we’ve even reached the place he was standing earlier. It’s only a few feet away from the house, but I feel like I’m running a marathon.

“S-Sorry, Aslan.” I try to breathe, but the air isn’t reaching my lungs. “I-I need—“ The world around me starts to turn, strange shadows and figures surround me; voices laughing as my vision tilts.

Everything’s blurring.

Ears are ringing.

Hurting.

_Can I just die?_

A bright light shining straight into my eye wakes me up.

“Okay, he’s got some extra dilation in his pupils, but the pupil-reflex is fine.” The voice talking is distorted, just like the images I see after the light fades. Blue and purple blemishing my view.

I see people in white coats, holding what could be torture devices.

“Blood pressure?” some voice I don’t know asks. To which a faint voice replies, “Too high.”

_What happened?_ My own voice asks me. _Where am I?_

Someone moves into my vision, but I can’t see their face. I blink, hoping to see better, but I’m in a totally different room when I open them again; a bright white room with barely anything in it.

“Griffin!” a loud voice shrieks, causing a flash of pain to shoot through my head. Aslan moves into my field of vision, his big green eyes filled up with tears and his cheeks stained red. “You woke up!”

I blink twice, slowly but surely memories of New Year’s Eve start to come back to me; dizziness, falling, followed by nightmares that went on and on for what seemed to be an endless time.

I groan, trying to move, but grimacing when I feel something moving inside of my arm. When I slowly turn my attention to the place where the pain is coming from, I see that I’ve got an infuse in my arm. The thin line that’s suck to it leads from my arm to a bag of almost see-though fluid.

“W-What the—“ I mutter, but my tongue feels too numb to continue. I don’t remember talking to be so hard. And my voice, has it always been so slurred?

Aslan taps on my shoulder, looking into my eyes before saying, “I have to get the doctor. Wait.” After that he runs out into the hallway; they probably told him to get someone as soon as I woke up, but does that mean something very serious happened? I just remember fainting, that’s not such a big deal that a doctor has to be involved, is it?

But indeed, not long after Aslan leaves, he returns dragging a young nurse behind him. The nurse thanks Aslan for getting him, but soon tells my little brother to go to the atrium to play a little while he talks about some things with me. Aslan, being the good boy that he is, does what he’s told.

“Great to see that you’ve woken up.” The nurse appears slightly awkward when talking, almost as if he’s not used to dealing with patients just yet. He scratches the back of his head before walking up to the bed I’m lying in. “I’m Max Lobo, the nurse who took care of you while you were unconscious.”

I frown; if I needed someone to take care of me, then how long was I unconscious?

“There’s a lot I have to fill you in on, and I bet you must have a lot of questions,” Max continues while at the same time automatically putting my bed upright so I can see everything a little better. “But maybe it’s best if you take a moment to wake up. Can I do anything for you in the meanwhile?”

“Y-Yes.” I swallow, my mouth is so dry it’s hard to talk. “Water?”

Max’s eyes get big and he mutters, “Wow, I didn’t think you’d be able to talk already” to no one in particular before looking at me and smiling. “Of course, just one glass of water?”

I nod, and before I know it I’ve got a cup of water to drink from. Fortunately, while Max was fetching me something to drink, the fog in my brain cleared up a little and my limbs stopped tingling, so I can hold the cup myself; it’d been very uncomfortable if I would’ve needed help.

Once the last drip of water slides down my throat, my tongue feels much less heavy and I can finally ask, “So, what exactly happened?” after being mostly silent for so long.

Max looks up. “Your little brother said you suddenly collapsed. So he ran over to the neighbors, who called an ambulance.” Max smiles. “You’ve got yourself a smart brother, really. You probably wouldn’t have made it otherwise.”

I wince. “Was it that bad?”

“Well—“ Max takes a deep breath. “You _have_ been unconscious for two entire days.”

I feel how my eyes get bigger in disbelief; no way. “And what about Aslan? Where’s he slept?”

“Your little brother’s been sleeping in that bed.” He gestures at the unmade bed beside the one I’m in. “After hearing the two of you live alone and seeing the circumstances we thought it might be the best plan. He’s safer here than anywhere else.” Max shows me a reassuring smile.

I nod, thanking him for taking care of Aslan while I was unconscious.

“If I were you I wouldn’t worry about him.” Max’s face grows more serious, and he averts his gaze when he says, “Rather, worry about yourself.”

“What?” I mumble; he sounds like I’ve got some deadly disease, like Cancer or something. “Why?”

Max takes a seat on the crutch beside my bed and I only now see the file in his hands. It’s a brown folder with my name written on it, and even though I’ve never been admitted to the hospital before, the medical file seems to be more than just a couple of pages long.

“W-What’s going on?” I stammer, my heart suddenly racing, because all I remember is the nurse’s taking out a file like that when they told my mother she was going to die within the next six months.

“While you were unconscious, we took some scans,” Max says, opening up the medical chart to show me a black and white picture of my brain. He points at a specific place, that’s also been marked with a red circle. “Now, I have to ask you, have you ever been told that you have a mutation in your Frontal Lobe? Maybe when you were younger, at some other hospital?”

I shake my head, taking a good look at the picture again. “I-Is it something bad?”

Max stays silent, too silent, so I ask it again; sounding much more urgent this time. To which he responds by taking a deep breath and saying, “I think it is definitely something to worry about, yes.”

“Then take it out of my brain!” I shout at him, panic causing me to raise my voice much more than I initially wanted to. I think it even scares him, the way I yelled, just like it scared me.

Max shakes his head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

When I ask him why, he tells me that it’s not something like a tumor that they can remove surgically. “You can better see it as an abnormality in the way your brain works,” Max explains. “Even if we could take this infected cluster of brain cells out of your brain, it wouldn’t take away your disease.”

I frown, shaking my head. “No, you didn’t- I mean, you said it’s just a mutation? Not like a disease, like Cancer?” My breathing is getting heavier, yet much faster, I’m getting lightheaded. “I can live with this, right? Tell me I can live with this!” I’m shouting now. “I need to look after Aslan!”

“Griffin.” Max voice is calm when he reaches out to me. “I need you to breathe with me, slowly.”

He starts counting, telling me to breathe in slowly and breathe out slowly. And while doing that the tears start coming; only a few at first, but before I know it thick drips are running down my cheeks.

Max stays with me while I’m crying, handing me tissues, and water to drink, while rubbing my back calmly. And when I’ve finally calmed down, he tells me it might be better to schedule an appointment with Doctor Meredith tomorrow. “He can give you more details, inform you better.”

I shake my head, glancing at the file. “It’s all in there, isn’t it? The information?”

Max looks down at the medical chart too and nods once. “But I’m just a nurse, I can’t answer your questions properly. I really think it may be better to—“

“No.” I glare at him with determined eyes. “I don’t care if you can’t answer all of the questions I may have, just tell me what on earth is going on with me.” Tears are blurring my vision, but Max nods.

“Okay,” he replies, and seeing the sickening expression on his face, I almost feel guilty for pushing this, clearly new-to-the-job, nurse into this corner. But I have to know.

“Thanks,” I whisper, forcing myself to keep my calm for the rest of this conversation so I won’t freak the poor guy out even more; that’s the least I can do. “So, what am I dealing with?”

“We call it B1, it’s a genetic neurological disease caused by that abnormality in your brain,” Max explains, talking slow and calm so I can follow. “It’s very rare, there’s only been two stated cases before you, so we don’t know much about it. But the first set of symptoms usually sets it around late teenage-hood, early adult-hood. Starting with fatigue, fainting, seizures, increased blood pressure and pupil dilation; as we’ve seen in your case. And that cell mutation; B1, without a doubt.”

I swallow. This B1 is so rare, I’ve never once heard of it, but going from the way Max talks about it; it sounds dangerous, and I don’t like the sound of that. “W-What about the outlook?”

“To put it bluntly, you can think of it as something like Alzheimer, only affecting younger people.”

I close my eyes, shaking my head; of course I need to get something like _that_.

“It’s a brain disease, as you probably already expected.” Max’s eyes look into mine, and I’m convinced he feels bad. Especially when his voice breaks. “The mutation will spread through your brain, causing decreasing brain function, problems with memory and staying conscious and motor impairment.” Max swallows, his eyes completely red almost as if he’s trying not to cry even more so than I am; and I’m literally being pushed closer to crying with each word. It’s the drip, causing me to burst into tears, when he adds, “It’s fatal.”

My breath jolts as I wrap my hands over my face to hide my tears. In between sobs I manage to ask, “How quick?” I want to know, or rather, I _have_ to know.

“There are five stages.” Max swallows. “We don’t exactly know how long—“

“In what stage am I?” I ask, looking up right away, praying to god that I still am in an early stage; that way, with so many stages there must be still a lot of time left for me to at least get Aslan raised enough that he doesn’t have to return to our father’s home anymore.

“We think stage 2,” Max tells me before closing his eyes briefly. His expression grows gloomy when I ask him how long I’ve got left, with sudden high hopes that I might still have some time to live.

“I’m sorry.” His hand rests on my shoulder. “I’d say you have one, maybe two years left to live.”

My body freezes up, the little hope I had left withers away; I might as well just die right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey There!
> 
> In this chapter you got a little more info about Banana Fish (or B1). Obviously there'll be more explinations throughout the story, but know that they're all intertwined in the story, so that with this one I'm not going to do one big explination in the authorsnote like I normally do; because this may include spoilers and stuff. But yeah, so little info will be given to you in small bites!
> 
> Also, backstory chapters will return more often too! Get ready to read from Griff's POV too ^^
> 
> Love, Noa <3


	5. Like Crossing A Field On A Foggy Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dying... isn't it just like crossing a field on a foggy morning?

**Aslan Callenreese**

_9 Jul. 2018_

I saw him, Griffin, in Eiji’s eyes.

It started out with my mind fooling me just once, but then it started happening each morning. Sometimes even more often, at random moments, like when he reaches out to me and smiles.

It creeps me out, seeing my dead brother in the person who’s taking care of me. Hallucinations cause me to not just see the resemblance, but they literally show me Griffin fading into Eiji.

I don’t know why it happens; maybe it’s because his smile looks like Griffin’s, or because he’s so kindhearted that even after I squeezed his arm so hard it had red welts on it afterwards, he still tried to cheer me up each day. But I think it’s because he called me Aslan, my real name; only Griffin called me that. And the way he said it, the tone, it just reminded me of Griffin too much.

It happened again this morning, when Eiji was fluffing the pillows that I use when I lay in the windowsill. He glanced in my direction and chuckled, “I don’t get how you lay comfortably on these pillows” sounding too much like Griffin, who said something alike that years ago. 

It felt like my heart shattered. And I must’ve lost control of my anger again, because I blacked out completely and when I came to I was on the floor, alone in the room, surrounded by pillows that looked like they were thrown. That was an hour ago, and I have barely moved since then.

I only got up to get the most recent picture I have of Griffin and me, so I can just cry for a moment. And that’s exactly what I do; looking at the very picture from when Griffin was still himself and I was still a little chubby with fourteen years old. I lost all that weight, like Griffin lost all his memories.

I remember taking this picture, it was only a couple of days before Griffin’s condition got worse.

Three years later he died.

Exactly three months ago, on the ninth of April.

That’s why I’m having a harder time today. Everything seems to remind me of Griffin, everything seems to hit me more than it usually would. I guess that’s what grief feels like after three months.

“I miss you, Griff,” I whisper, looking into his distant eyes. “I wish you were here now.”

A tear streams down my face when I remember how he would always be by my side to hold me when I was sad. He wouldn’t let me cry like this, not because I’m a boy, but because he couldn’t handle seeing me sad; he’d always say it would make him cry too, and he didn’t want that.

I dry my tears with the fabric of my t-shirt, smiling weakly at the memories of my brother.

I’m glad I dried them, my tears, because when I look up I’m staring straight into Eiji’s eyes. He looks worried, crouched down beside me. His eyebrows are perked up, almost like he’s asked something.

“Huh?” I mutter.

“I asked if you’re okay,” Eiji repeats.

I nod once, but at the same time tears start bubbling up again. I start crying, just like that, without a way to stop the sobs from coming. In between sniffles, I admit I’m not okay.

Eiji slumps down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. He pulls me up against him, like Griffin always would when I was crying and he knew all I needed was a shoulder to cry on.

Eiji does exactly the same, lending me his chest to curl up against while being calmly rubbed with the mouse of his hand. And I do the same as I always used to do, I bury my face in the fabric of his clothes and let it all out; there’s no reason to keep it in anyway.

I don’t even know for how long we sit there until one of us finally talks.

It’s Eiji, carefully asking me if I need something. “A tissue? A cup of water?”

My throat is dry and I’m convinced that a tissue would be nice after nonstop crying for god-knows-how-long, but I shake my head. I don’t want Eiji to leave my side, not now.

“Okay,” Eiji replies, staying silent for a long time after that, just holding me close.

I sniff once before sitting upright. I look into Eiji’s dark brown eyes while mumbling, “It’s been three months.” I swallow; I don’t want to tell him, but he deserves to know why I just cried on his lap for such a long time. “Exactly three months ago, I lost Griffin.”

Eiji nods once, before glancing at the picture in my lap. He looks at it for a while before asking, “Is that him, the guy in the brown cardigan?”

I nod, chuckling even though the tears start dripping down my cheeks again. Telling Eiji about how that old, nasty brown cardigan used to be his favorite piece of clothing. “He was only twenty-seven on this picture, but he had the fashion sense of a grandpa, really.”

Eiji giggles softly, before asking me what Griffin was like.

“He acted older than his age too,” I admit, especially when I was younger I always thought Griffin acted more grown up than most people his age. He was a year younger than I am now when he moved into another house with me and started working fulltime to keep himself and me alive. “He also was very caring and kindhearted, a little like you.” _A lot, actually._ “And he was very brave.”

Eiji smiles, but when I tell him that Griffin never seemed scared of something, not even of dying, his expression grows gloomy. He hesitates before asking me, “Are you? Scared of dying, I mean.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Nobody can escape death, everyone is mortal. I’m just a little higher on some reaper’s list, it’s my fate, and I’ve accepted that a long time ago.”

“Really?” Eiji gapes at me, just like I said something crazy just now.

I nod. “Really.”

Eiji leans with his head onto the side of my mattress, looking up at the ceiling. He takes a moment to think about it, before saying, “I guess you’re right, to some extent.” He turns to me and smiles kindly, telling me that he thinks that’s very brave of me. “I would be terrified.”

“Everyone is,” I tell him. “but it’s not the dying that you’re scared of, it’s the unknown that’s waiting for you.” I lean my head onto the mattress as well, and suddenly my face is very close to Eiji’s.

I turn to him and whisper the thing Griffin told me when I was just diagnosed and told him that I was scared of dying. “Think about it this way; you’re walking out onto the fields on a foggy morning. Even though you sometimes can’t even see what’s right in front of you, you’re probably not scared in the slightest.” I pause. “That’s the unknown. Whether it’s a misty field or death, it can’t be that scary.”

“Wow,” Eiji whispers after being silent for a while. “I never thought about it that way.”

I smile weakly. “Well, it’s just Griffin’s way of making things seem less scary.”

“Your brother loved metaphors, didn’t he?” Eiji teasingly pokes me in the side. “Are you like that too?”

“No, I’m nothing like that.” I chuckle. “But Griffin, well, he was a poet; finding resembles between two things and connecting them through vague sentences seemed to be his way of coping with life.”

“So, then what’s your way of coping?” Eiji glances at me.

I shrug, because I never thought about coping with anything; some days I find the need to cry, some days I read a book or ten to get my mind off things and other days I just space out for hours. But that’s when it hits me, the reason why coping with life has become harder over the past months.

“I coped by talking,” I say out loud. “Whenever I felt bad, I went to Griffin.”

Ever since he passed away, I’ve been bottling them up deep inside of me. Up to this moment.

Eiji looks at me, he seems to know what I’m thinking, because right when I need it he tells me this.

“That’s a good way of coping.” He smiles. “And if you need to talk, I’ll be here for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey There!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!  
> As you probably noticed, this story works with "dated chapters". With this I mean each chapter is set on a different day and this day is specified with said date. Chapter that are set "a couple of years ago" are just written in present tense, but you'll be able to see by the year in the date that it's a chapter that's set in the past. 
> 
> I hope to see you again for the next chapters on Thursdays and Sundays around 12PM PT!
> 
> Love, Noa <3


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